12 Months of Glee: Walls Coming Down
by Tigerdust
Summary: Mr. Schuester has talent for finding lost lambs and bringing out the music within them. He did it for Finn, for Kurt, for Tina. And now there is one person left, found by Emma, that no one expected to need Glee. But nobody else needs it more-read note.
1. Chapter 1

_Alarm goes off at seven_

_And you head uptown_

Jericho awoke, disgruntled. The sound of Monday's alarm clock dragging him from the alien hunting dream. He liked the alien hunting dream because there always chocolate cream pie at the end of it. It was bizarre and he didn't really believe in dream interpretation anyways enough to wonder what the pie actually meant.

_You put in your eight hours_

_For the powers that have always been_

Yawning, he sat up as he quelled the clanging bells of his ancient alarm clock. He could see the start of the sun poking through his blinds. Rising with a slight groan from the stiff mattress, Jericho put his hand on his bare back. He was wearing the last pair of boxers he had, which meant leaving himself a sticky note to do laundry when he got home tonight.

_Then you go downtown_

_Where the folks are broke_

His hair was sticking up in funny directions. The light orange was already visible in slats as the sun poked through. Padding down to the bathroom, Jericho yawned again and sniffed the air, hoping to smell Strawberry Pop Tarts. No dice, yet again. Shaking his head, he applied liberal amounts of water until the hair smoothed back into a satisfying shape for him. Closing the door for just a moment, he started the day with his bladder.

_You go downtown_

_Where your life's a joke_

The house was silent as he changed into his Monday jeans. He had his jeans for the week, his slacks for work and his weekend gear all separated. He knew that when Mom came in later to "clean", she would separate for him and he just didn't want to deal with the hassle of the lecture, so he did what he needed to do.

_You go downtown_

_Where you spend your token and you go _

_Home on skid row_

Cold cereal again, not a box of pop tarts in sight. He was a week before the next paycheck. Luckily, it was his free week. He didn't pay for the heating or the water this time around and that made him happy. Folding his clothes among the books he had brought home to study over the weekend, Jericho ate his cereal in near silence, the sound of Honey Bunches of Oats the only crunch in the house.

_Yes, you go downtown_

_Where the cabs don't stop_

_Downtown-where the food is slop_

_Downtown-where the hot heads flop in the snow_

Walking to school, Jericho was used to the cat calls. Whistles from the football team, an occasional moon, but he was luckier than the one guy. Dumpster Boy, as he had never been introduced to the kid, was a regular visitor to his third period study hall. Only one more year, that was Jericho's sighing mantra. He wanted to be free, though of what exactly he was not clear.

_Poor, all my life I've always been poor_

_I keep asking God what I'm for_

_And he tells me, gee, I'm not sure_

_Sweep that floor kid_

The plan was to overload himself, graduate a semester early. Eat lunch by yourself on the bleachers so you can finish pre-calculus and be done with math. Hoard money, bring only cold sandwiches. Do as few high-maintenance extra curricular gigs as he could and then finally, impress the entrance board with work. No one had bothered to ask him what his goal was in college. Truth be told, college was Jericho's goal.

_Oh! I started life as an orphan, a child of the streets_

_Here on Skid Row_

_He gave me shelter, a bed, crust of bread, and a job_

_Though he treats me like dirt and calls me a slob_

_Which I am_

It was Motown night at the shop, one of Jericho's favorites. The late night radio was one of his only hints of personality that his boss, Parker, ever saw. Parker was filling out the last of his paperwork at the yogurt shoppe. Somewhere in the freezer depth was an oatmeal flavor with oreo sprinkles. But, for now, he concentrated on mopping the floor and flipping the chairs and the sound of Stevie Wonder. Mom would never let him work here if she knew about the music.

_So I live downtown_

_That's your main address_

"You're home." She was sitting in the recliner, dad's old recliner. It was faded green, the only thing in the place that wasn't pristine. She had tried to have it upholstered once and Jericho had hidden it away just for that purpose. He had forced her to promise to leave it be, to leave it out of the world she was trying to create around herself. She begrudgingly accepted after a week of venomous barbs.

"Told you, mom, I have work on Mondays."

_You live downtown_

_When your life's a mess_

"Where do you think you're going?"

Jericho points to the top of the stairs. "Hour of studying. Soc test tomorrow. Pretty easy, but need to review before hitting the hay."

Jericho's mom shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Get over here, kiss mother on the cheek." She smells of cat, although she couldn't stand to ever own one and Jericho had never even seen her bring one of the strays in for a bowl of food.

_You live downtown_

_Where depression just status quo_

"They missed you at bible study, my love." She wouldn't let Jericho pull away just yet.

He feels a touch nauseous for lying. "I can't get out of Mondays. We'll find another time to have Rossi and her parents over."

She wants them married. Rossi and Jericho's mom are two peas in one pod. It makes him ill to think of her romantically, but he won't tell his mother "no way" straight up.

_Downtown-where the guys are drips_

_Downtown-where they rip your slips_

Wednesdays are the blissful days on Jericho's calendar. Saturdays he spends with old folks, flipping pancakes for the homeless, or raking leaves for Mr. Gillico a few doors down. Sundays are church days, strict days, forced interaction with mom and living with evasion sort of days. No, Wednesdays, he's arranged his calendar beautifully. Two hours in the library, no one else around.

_Downtown-where relationships are no go_

_Here on skid row_

The librarian smiles at Jericho, looking briefly at the calendar before sliding the large architectural book he has holed away behind the counter. Its a perk of being the first president of the first literary club at McKinley. Once more, low maintenance and high perk. Jericho spends the first hour staring into the book, off into space, enjoying the lines and planning fake doodles. Its that second hour that she sees him and his life just, well, it all goes to pot after that.

_Someone tell me a way to get out of here_

_Cause I constantly pray I'll get out here_

Miss Emma Pillsbury is walking through the stacks, looking for a certain book in the mythology section. Will has asked her to find something about the god or goddess of music. Some point that he's trying to prove in Glee club. His handsome smile and warm eyes often force her to buzz in and out of the conversation.

_Please won't somebody say I'll get out of here_

_Someone give me my shot or I'll rot here_

That's how Jericho finds himself in her office. Years later, she would say that she saw the rhythm bouncing in his foot as he listened to his semi-legal, hidden away iRiver.

Emma blinks, erect posture and polite folding of the hands. "How are you today, Mr. Phin? I don't think I've actually seen you since orientation day. That's kind of odd because most students at least come to see me once or twice a year."

Jericho nods. "Well, Ms. Pillsbury, I've been busy and challenged and well, I think I'm doing okay on my own."

She continues talking, but Jericho notices the manila folder with his name at the top of the tab. "Be that as it may, perhaps you could use some guidance of some sort?"

_Gee it sure would be swell to get out of skid_

Jericho chuckles uneasily. "Not really, thanks. I'm doing okay. I volunteer with Key Club, I do presidential stuff for the lit club, Sat prep and such."

Ms. Pillsbury nods along. "I see that. It's very impressive. Sure you're not too busy?

Jericho furrows his brow. "What are you getting at?"

_Bid the gutter farewell and get out skid_

_I'd move heaven and hell to get out of skid_

"Jericho, you transferred here under difficult circumstances. No one would blame you if you were burying yourself in work."

He blinks politely in return. "Dad's death was more than difficult. But I'm handling it."

Emma gives him those doe eyes that make most kids squirm. Jericho doesn't even bat an eyelash, but thinks bullocks on her stare to himself. Its that same manipulation mom uses, whether for good or ill. She plods on, undisturbed. "It's a little late, but I was wondering if you've had a chance to process your grief. You're really young and while its positive to be so active, I have to wonder if its not too active. Normally I would suggest more activity for my students, but I think you might need less."

_I'd do I don't know what to get out of skid_

_But a hell of a lot to get out of skid_

Jericho doesn't have much more to say. He returns to the chair in the library neither accepting or denouncing her words, but the peace is ruined and all he can think about is Ms. Pillsbury and her pamphlets and concern. And he thinks about dad and how different everything was and yet how the sun is still beating down and the birds he used to watch are still singing. But he doesn't cry. He's not even sure he can. Then the alarm on his phone goes off quietly. It's time for his next class.

_Row!_

"I've got something to tell you." Emma slides in across from Will at lunch time.

Will raises his eyes up from the cookies on his napkin. "Whats up? Turkey wrap for lunch?"

"Yes, with just a hint of mustard. But first, I think I might have found someone new for Glee club. Have you ever heard of Jericho Phin? Seems that he has the ability to follow a beat and he's got a lot he needs to express."

Will sets down the cookie slowly that he had been raising to his lips. "Tell me more."

*Author's Note: Welcome to the universe of myself as a Gleek. You'll notice this is a rearranged version of Downtown (Skid Row) from Little Shop of Horrors. This is done because in Jericho's head, it is merely a solo. For me, this is my favorite musical intro and it will become more appropriate as each month unfolds in this new year. I hope you enjoy this and that you'll read. This is not one of those normal OC stories where the narrator and one of the regular Gleeks falls in love. I promise that it will be so much more.*


	2. February

For once, Jericho Phin is grateful for Sue Sylvester. Not only has she provided some much needed pompous entertainment during lunch breaks, but she has provided him with ramps. And he's very grateful, especially today. Pulling into the cafeteria, he finds that the janitors have set his tables to the side folded. The place is empty and won't be full for another half hour, but he figures that he needs that much time to set up. He goes about his work quietly.

First, Jericho thinks to himself, make space for the tables. Opening the lid to the large clear container that he had cleared out of Christmas lights and washed the attic dust out of, he finds the rope. He lays down a large square of rope for a template and then pushes tables where he needs them. Its easier since they don't need chairs for his purposes.

_I'm so addicted to the love that you're feeding me_

He moves one table and the wheels underneath lock, creating a horrid shrill squeak as he drags it. The lunch ladies stop and glare at him. Jericho simply shrugs in apology. Standing back from the rope, he nods and picks up the rope itself, starting to whistle to himself without an apparent song in mind. Reaching into the clear box at the center of the tables, Jericho digs first for two larger blue table cloths, shaking them out and lifting the wheels so that they can be used as drop cloths.

Shaking out the smaller tablecloths in pink, green, and yellow with a flourish, he sets them down gently. He looks up at the clock in the distance and he sees that he is at a ten minute mark. Bowls are placed on the edge of the tables, along with plastic knives. Tearing open bags of candies, the avalanche of sugar treats fills each bowl two thirds of the way full.

_Can't do without it_

Jericho mutters to himself as he pulls a clipboard out from the side of the box and begins to check items off. One of the last items to go on the table are the vanilla cake rounds. He peers into the nearly empty abyss of the clear box and notes that the icing is still secure in its cool bag. Starting to pop off the tops, he congratulates himself on making sure the frosting merely softened before lunch. Each table gets two containers.

_This feeling's got me weak in the knees_

Proud of what he's accomplished, Jericho looks at his tables before the bell rings. As the bell rings, the tables remind me of perfect apple slices, centered on round plates. Spreading the napkins out and pulling in the guideline rope, Jericho grabs the second clipboard and he waits.

_Body's in withdrawal every time you take it away_

Kids begin to filter in, but they mostly don't look at him yet. Quite a few flock to the lunch line, cutting and shoving and his stomach growls as he realizes that he's missing tator tot day. Oh well, Jericho sighs, its for a good cause.

"Excuse me....did you see the sign outside?"

_Can't you hear me calling?_

The kid looks at Jericho as though he's just sprouted a second head. He walks away without comment. Leaving Jericho to merely stroke his chin.

_Begging you to come out and play_

"Hey...I think we have...."

The second kid doesn't even bother to stop.

"Did you hear in the announcements....?"

And a third time, nothing. Jericho sighs. What can he do to get these kids attention? He had signs set up, put mentions in morning announcements and all that jazz. He just wished that Principal Figgins had agreed to lend him a microphone. Something about heckling the students, Jericho had tuned out when he had become dissatisfied with Figgins.

_So baby, come to me_

He was amazed when the blond cheerleader with her stereotypical McKinley High Cheer leading Barbie outfit didn't just walk right past him.

"Hey! Are you the guy in charge of the contest?"

_Show me who you are_

It takes Jericho a moment to respond. "Yeah, sure I am. Are you interested in competing?"

The blond cheerleader wrinkles her nose while she thinks. "Is it gonna be really messy?"

_Sweet to me, like sugar to my heart_

Jericho shakes his head. "Nah. Plenty of napkins and all that. Do you have your entry fee?"

The cheerleader nods. "Of course." She continues to talk while digging around in her purse. "This is so cool of you to do. I don't think we help people out enough in the world."

_I'm craving for you_

Jericho chuckles and nods. "I agree. What name would like to put down for your entry?"

_I'm missing you like candy_

"My name is Brittany."

Jericho takes a moment to write her first name. "Cool. Ummm...would you mind helping me spread the word? You know, you can't really compete alone."

Brittany's eyes light up. "Really? I'll be right back!"

Jericho walks over to the clear bin where his lock box is buried at the very bottom and secures Brittany's money. Then Jericho watches as Brittany goes over to a table and begins to talk excitedly to a Latina cheerleader. Well, Jericho thinks, its better than nothing.

Jericho can hear Santana as she marches over with Brittany. "I can't believe I'm going to do this."

"C'mon, Santana! Its for a good cause!"

_Sweet, sweet loving got me goin to the extreme_

Santana rolls her eyes and crosses her arms nonchalantly. Jericho feels like she's gonna start tapping her foot at him any moment. "Whatever. What am I donating to?"

"The American Red Cross General Fund." Jericho states confidently.

Santana sighs, digging around in her purse for money. "Fine. But you better know where this money is going. My mom adopted this kid once and found out later the charity only gave about five cents out of every dollar to the people of the village she was in."

Jericho shrugs as he takes the money. "That's not cool. No, this is the general fund. Its like the International version of FEMA, except it actually, you know, functions. What's your name?"

"Santana."

Jericho smiles as he writes the name under Brittany's. "Great...and are you girls competing together?"

"You bet!" Brittany chirps in, grabbing onto Santana's arms in glee.

_Won't go without it_

"Competing in what?" Jericho's eyes shoot over to the high male voice. Its Dumpster Boy, sitting at a table not far away.

_This vibe has got a hold on me_

Brittany waves. "C'mon Kurt! Its for charity!"

Kurt shakes his head. "No thanks. Looks messy and I just got finished with my last salon appointment for my highlights. I am not going to ruin them."

Tina, sitting across from Kurt, squints in reaction. "You get highlights done?"

Kurt motions to his face. "Right before it turns to spring, I have the roots of my hair done so that I can get my summer cut later on without worrying what color its going to turn out to be. Then I match my eyebrows and do an updated concealer lesson with Consuelo to make sure my tone is going to match my summer plans."

Mercedes finishes a sip of her drink. "Damn, thats complicated."

_Satisfying, baby_

Jericho calls over to the table. "I assure you that its not going to be messy. I've got plenty of napkins for everybody."

Artie furrows his brow from where he sits beside Mercedes. "So, whats the challenge exactly?"

_Let me show you what I'm made of_

"Cake decorating." Jericho answered matter-of-factly. "For charity. The winning team wins the cake of their choice."

Kurt tilts his head as he thinks. "And whose gonna be the judge?"

A hand shoots up from an adjacent table where books and a sketch pad are open. "As an aspiring musical actress, I believe I have the training to judge a cake decorating competition based on creative merit."

_No doubt about it boy_

Kurt sighs to himself. "Of course."

_Got me feeling crazy_

Jericho is taken aback by the girl's confidence. "Umm...alright. And you would be?"

She stands up, beginning to close books. "Rachel Berry. And if you are assigning me the position of judge, make sure there is a star after my name."

_Can't get enough_

Santana's voice shoots from the table on Jericho's right as Brittany is taking an M & M from one of the bowls. "Oh no. I definitely don't want to do this if Berry is judging. I would never win, not that I'd ever actually eat something I've decorated. What are we? Seven?"

Rachel blinks hard at Santana. "Who would you want to be judge then, as if I didn't already know?"

Santana nods past Rachel's table, where a blond girl is eating by herself. "Hey Q, wanna give us a hand?"

Quinn doesn't even bother looking up. "Not really."

Jericho coughs loudly to get their attention. "Please, guys, this is for charity. Sorry Ms. Berry, but if having that other girl judge means garnering more interest, then I think I might need to go in that direction."

Brittany chimes in. "Yeah! C'mon Quinn! Isn't your dad always watching those Food Network shows?"

Quinn mutters something in response. "Just the barbecue ones really." Hesitantly, she gets up from her chair. "But if its for charity..."

Rachel has a tinge of clear annoyance in her voice. "Fine then."

_Baby, baby, baby_

Sitting back down, the tall guy on her right turns to her from the large sketchbook. "I think we should do it Rachel. You've got great talent for creating stuff and its for a good cause. C'mon, let's team up."

Rachel's voice loses its edge. "You'd really do that for me, Finn?"

Finn nods, smiling warmly. "Absolutely."

_Won't you come to me?_

Rachel's hand shoots up. "Excuse me? Whats the entry fee? We've got two to sign up here!"

Jericho beams. "Thats great. Five bucks minimum apiece, winner gets the cake of their choice."

Rachel walks over with Finn in tow, leaving Tina in charge of the storyboarding sketchpad for next year's Invitationals. "I think we can do a little better than that. Right, Finn?"

_Show me who you are_

Finn shrugs. "Sure."

Jericho takes the money and begins to write their names, drawing a tie between them so that he knows they have one cake entry. "Okay, Rachel and...you are....Finn? Right, rock on. Pick your blank canvas. Is that all the entries?"

Kurt stands up, walking with a swiveled saunter to Jericho. "If Rachel's fashion sense is any indication of her ability to create visual appeasement, then you're gonna need someone fabulous to make the winning cake. I think that would be me."

Jericho chuckles. "Not up to me. Its up to the judge. But I like your enthusiasm."

Kurt beams. "Thanks. Which cake am I making fabulous?"

_Sweet to me_

"Um..." Jericho looks over at the tables. "I guess the one in the back by process of elimination."

Santana speaks up as she is becoming more and more impatient. "How long do we have for this?"

Jericho shrugs. "I was thinking ten minutes." Turning to the lunch room, he booms out the announcement. "Anyone else looking to enter a contest for charity?" There was a general lack of enthusiasm.

_Like sugar to my heart_

"Now wait," Quinn speaks up after a moment. "Kurt can't do a cake by himself if there's two people at each of the other ones. Could I help him instead of judging?"

Jericho shrugs noncommittally. "Sure, I suppose. I guess I could judge then."

Rachel nods as she notices the orange slices available for decoration. "Well, that would have less bias."

Artie's voice raises from Kurt's table. "I have a question. Can we bet on the outcome?"

_I'm craving for you_

Jericho nods. "I'll take money if you just wanna donate."

Artie smiles in return. "Great. Lets get ten bucks on Kurt and Quinn then."

Mercedes chuckles. "I don't know. I don't think Rachel could handle losing a decorating competition. How about I put ten on her cake with Finn? I love you though, Kurt, baby!"

_I'm missing you like candy_

Kurt waves. "I know you got my back, girl! Its alright."

After collecting the money, Jericho puts an end to the banter. "Okay, well, I guess we'll get this party started."

Rachel calls out a question. "Do we have a theme or a height requirement?"

Quinn shrugs as she picks up a plastic knife. "Sweet Charity? Thats one of mom's favorite movies."

Jericho nods. "Nice. Let's go with that then."

Finn furrows his brow. "Shouldn't we have music or something?"

Jericho shakes his head. "I've got a stop watch. Is that cool? Okay?"

Santana heaves another sigh. "Can we please just get this started?"

_I'm craving for you_

Jericho takes a big breath. "Right-o! On your mark, get set, decorate!"

_I'm missing you like candy_

Almost instantly, there are a cavalcade of individual voices speaking as if on cue:

**"Finn! Get your fingers out of the icing!" "C'mon Kurt! Show them how to frost that cake!"**

**"Save some of those for the decoration, Brittany!" "This is rather exciting."**

**"We really could have used some edible glitter or something."**

**"I think we'll live. Should we do a cute baby duck with the orange slices or something?"**

**"Don't spill on your uniform, Santana. Coach Sylvester won't like that much."**

**"You're pretty good at this, Rach." "Dude, why didn't you tell me there was food dye?! We could have done a red cake."**

**"Are we using any more of these? I kinda want to eat them. They're staring at me." "Hey Finn, make a guitar!"**

The seconds tick down as the Gleeks banter back and forth from the tables, both supporters and friends a like. A small crowd has drawn around the tables and people are pointing for their favorites. Jericho is going around and collecting more bet money and suddenly feels a lot like a Wall Street tycoon. There seems to be a cheering echo like they have on the Food Network as time winds down.

"Okay, guys," Jericho exclaims," help me count it down. You have 5...4...3..2..1! And hands down! We are done!"

There is a smattering of applause as the Gleeks step away from their respective cakes. The crowd is still gathered as Jericho walks around each cake, judging.

Finn and Rachel's almost purple curtain with actual curtain streaks going down the side and drama faces in the middle looks really solid. Kurt and Quinn's adorable sun and duckies cake makes Jericho smile.

"But the clear winner," Jericho booms, "is any cake that gives us a real sense of school pride! Brittany and Santana's M & McKinley Rebel Yell cake is the clear champion!" The crowds begin to dissipate as the excitement dies down.

"Congratulations, girls. You get to pick which cake you'd like to take with you."

Brittany smiles warmly while Santana looks around, just glad that this whole thing is over. "Quinn, your cake is so cute. Can we have that one?"

Santana quirks her brow. "I thought you made our cake so we could take it."

Brittany started to bat her eyelashes. "But its got a cute little ducky made of orange slices. You can't tell me you don't like baby ducks...."

A male voice shot out from somewhere in the cafeteria. "Just shut up you...geeks!"

A piece of flying pineapple shoots straight for the cakes. Jericho puts his clipboard to his face so that the slice would at least not hit that. He turns when he hears a shriek.

Finn's voice becomes defensive, almost hostile. "Okay, who did that?"

Rachel shakes her head as she grabs a napkin. "It's okay, Finn. Its just frosting on a dry clean only sweater."

Kurt puts a hand on his right hip. "See? Thats why nobody else wears argyle."

Santana scoffs. "Well that and we all have some sort of pride in our fashion sense."

Finn shakes his head, turning to Rachel. "Its not okay. We can't let people push us around just cause we found something special about ourselves." Turning to face the crowd. "Whoever threw that should be man enough to show themselves."

A bulky kid shoots up. "Yeah, so what of it?"

Rachel tugs on Finn's shirt. "No Finn...its really okay..."

Quinn shakes her head. She grabs her cake, much to Brittany's protest, and marches over to the guy. He swallows hard. "Excuse me, do you have a problem with us doing something for charity or are you just a seventh grade moron that happened to pass his No Child Left Behind tests?"

"Well, I..."

Quinn turns her back from him. "Thats what I thought."

Unfortunately, she slips on some kid's spilled jello and grabs for the table. The cake goes flying, landing on the bulky kid's head. Quinn catches herself and turning, she looks at the kid with a guilty face. An apology was already on her lips but the kid laughs as he uncovers his eyes and sprays his table with cake crumbs.

"Food fight!"

_Red Wine, Konvict, Gaga oh, eh, eh_

Jericho's protective instincts kick in as soon as the words echo off the walls. Grabbing the Rebel cake to save for himself, he ducks beneath a table as the room erupts in flying rolls, spaghetti, pudding cups and shaken cans of soda.

Kurt heads beneath a table as well and he nods at Jericho from nearby as Jericho's knelt form watches the dining room fall into food chaos. It takes less than five minutes for Principal Figgins to enter the room, but everyone is already covered with some form of food. Well, everybody but Jericho and Kurt. Even Puck, who had come in from a lunch practice, had made his way over to Quinn and shielded her as best he could while slipping on a banana.

_I've had a little bit too much, much_

"Who started this, Hmm?"

_All of these people start to rush, start to rush by_

The room stops dead, even the icing clinging to Rachel's raven locks. Nobody says anything at first, but all eyes start to shift toward Quinn. The back of Jericho's throat lets out a cough.

_How does he twist the dance? I can't find a drink, oh man_

Quinn begins to approach Principal Figgins, but Jericho wasn't about to let Quinn damage her already sullied reputation. Coming out from beneath the table, where the cake was safely laid, Jericho raises his hand. "It was me, Principal Figgins. The cake decorating contest got a little out of hand."

_Where are my keys? I lost my phone, phone_

Figgins clasps his hands behind his back. "A little out of hand, Mr. Phin? I haven't seen this much destruction since the episode of the Amazing Race where those fraternity boys had to try and fold clothes in my native country. But, you've come forward and saved everyone from punishment, so I will not put this on your permanent record."

"But..."

"However, this is a substantial mess and we don't have the resources to clean it up-so I expect for you to handle the cleaning of this room yourself for the next week."

_What's going on on the floor?_

Jericho opens and closes his mouth quickly. "Yes, sir. Thank you sir.

_I love this record baby, but I can't keep straight anymore_

Principal Figgins' eyes rove around the room. "Now everyone clean up and get to class."

_Keep it cool, what's the name of this club?_

Students begin to file out slowly, leaving only Jericho in an empty room to survey the damage and to get ready for a last period before he has to return to clean up the place. Quinn's glance catches his in thanks before she files out with Puck offering and receiving denial at his assistance.

_I can't remember but it's alright, alright_

The scene of the crime was much as Jericho remembered it when he re-entered. He was thankful that it was February and that there were no flies to be seen. The cakes were in the kitchen, waiting for him to take home or consume. Brittany and Santana would let him know which one they wanted, presumably, by the end of the day. If not, he had an extra cake round. He could always make some mock up.

The lunch ladies had left out a mop and a bucket of hot water with a rag for him. He shrugged as he looked at the destruction. Best to get started, Jericho thought, and then the sooner I get out of here. Thank God I have the night off from my actual job.

_Wish I could shut my playboy mouth, oh oh_

Jericho turns when he hears the door, surprised to see Quinn and a few of the kids from the contest and at the story board table entering behind her.

"You really didn't think that you were gonna clean this up by yourself, did you?"

_How'd I turn my shirt inside out?_

Jericho shrugs as Quinn smiles. "You don't have to. You've all got more important things to do, I'm sure."

Finn nods, ignoring Santana being dragged in by Brittany. "Yeah, but you stood up for Quinn instead of letting her take the fall. Thats really cool. Plus, we didn't really want to rehearse today."

_Control your poison, babe_

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Speak for yourself, Finn. I would never miss a chance to rehearse unless I had a good reason."

_Roses have thorns they say_

Mercedes starts to roll up the sleeve on her fake mesh jersey over the red shirt. "Well, damn, we sure know how to make a mess."

_And we're all getting hosed tonight_

Kurt nods as he runs his hands through his bangs. "Before we begin, lets decide on a soundtrack."

Brittany held up her bag. "I brought my iPod and my iDock is in my locker."

Santana nods. "Well, lets go and get it then."

Jericho prepares to thank the entire crew. "Well guys, thanks for staying. Lets get..."

"Woah! What happened here!"

_What's going on on the floor?_

"My goodness. This is..." Ms. Pillsbury nearly slips but Mr. Schuester grabs onto her arm and pulls her back until he has her waist firmly in her grasp.

_I love this record, baby, but I can't see straight anymore_

"Careful, I know how you feel about messes."

But it was clear from Emma's eyes that when Will was around, she could barely see them. "Thanks."

_Keep it cool, whats the name of this club?_

Will helped Emma to get stable and then looked around the room. "I just passed Brittany and Santana. What happened in here?"

_I can't remember, but its alright, alright_

Jericho raised his hand. "Food fight. These kids offered to help, Mr. Schuester."

Will nodded. "That's really cool of you guys. And you are?"

Jericho extended his clean hand to Mr. Schuester. "Jericho Phin. And you're the Spanish teacher, right?"

Will chuckled. "Among other things. Nice to put a face to the name."

_Just dance_

Emma interrupts before Jericho could ask how Mr. Schuester knew about him. "Good thing we were passing by on the way to the practice room. You kids want some gloves? I have some in my purse, hopefully no one is allergic to latex." She proceeds to charge into her purse and bring up a small box of gloves.

_Gonna be okay_

Rachel takes them gratefully, elbowing Puck as she passes so that he couldn't make an inappropriate latex joke. "Thanks, Ms. Pillsbury. We appreciate it."

Will exhales. "Well, okay. When you guys get done, we'll see you in the practice room. Shorter practice today then, alright?"

_Just dance_

Kurt takes the box of gloves that Rachel is passing around. "Got it, Mr. Schue. We'll see you in five."

_Spin that record babe_

As Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury exit, Brittany re-enters with her iDock and minus Santana. "Okay, what are we playing? I just imported some new Lady Gaga if anyone's interested!"

_Just dance_

There was a murmur of consensus until Jericho spoke. "Who is Lady Gaga?"

_Gonna be okay_

Kurt begins to hyperventilate until Tina pats him on the back. Quinn rolls her eyes, taking Jericho's offered hand so she wouldn't slip. "Don't worry about it. I didn't know anything about her either until these guys came along."

_Just just just just_

Jericho shrugs in return. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see if she makes me dance or not."

_Just dance_

*Author's Note: Another month has passed, bringing us another chapter with Jericho Phin. Songs for this month are Mandy Moore's pop hit "_Candy_" and the eccentric Lady Gaga classic "_Just Dance_". The **bold phrases** above are just general chatter from many of the gLeeks. It's just banter and that is why there's no indication of which ones are talking. Hope you're not too confused by it and hope you've enjoyed February. I'll see you in March, Glee fans!*


	3. March

Except for Wednesdays, Jericho Phin found his sixth period dull in a way that just made the day unbearably long. Still, he studied dutifully and buttered up the teacher, pretending to be interested in the subject or what was around the room. He had even once bribed a higher grade out of a teacher by brandishing a book of quotes by a man that was quoted all around her room for "inspiration". That was kind of useful info they simply didn't teach in schools.

So, by hook or by crook, Jericho Phin remained one of the few students not to fail Mrs. Savelli's, or Snorvelli-depending upon which student you talked to, economics class. No, not home economics with the mock pies and bad sewing jobs and whatnot but economics with numbers and hokey product projects and such. Even though Jericho knew he could never stomach chemistry math, he had even entertained switching once. But he'd never be able to take that kind of hit to his nearly stellar GPA. And he be damned if he ever lost sight of his grade point average.

It just so happened, and Jericho had never really noticed this before, but several of the brighter Cheerios girls and a couple of the Glee boys were also in the class. Jericho hadn't really considered who else was in his class before, at least not by name. He knew people by their class rank. Keeping his head low, he'd usually only look up while buried in a book or walking swiftly down the hallway.

Kid in the blue shirt. 63.

Girl in the pink sun dress with leggings. 15.

Rock star with the Miley Cyrus backpack. 84.

But then there was Quinn Fabray. Before last month, Quinn had never noticed him and he'd never given her a reason too. Quinn had always been number 5 in his head. In reality, she was actually number 8, but leadership skills, which she seemed to attain naturally, and her "Queen Cee" level of importance had bumped up her score and made her dangerous collegiate competition when she applied herself.

Quinn held her court in this class in the fifth row back, not close enough to be an egghead and an outcast, like Jericho who sat to the direct right of the teachers desk, which was actually able to save the other kids from the smell of old teriyaki sauce on less than gourmet mushrooms, but far enough to retain her nonchalant aloofness.

Behind her were the people of her court and in front were the people who mattered less or did not matter at all. It had been her ball field for awhile and Jericho had admired that. Jericho had even admired her fall from grace and how she had remained and re birthed herself in the process. She wasn't perfect but Jericho liked her tenacity. Unfortunately, some of those signals can be taken the wrong way. New friendships, different communication patterns, a change in the social structure; these can all lend themselves eagerly to paranoia and its best friend jealousy.

It was March then, a delicious time to be alive. The sun was peeking through the harsh clouds of winter just before everyone went too far round the twist and started doing silly things like worshiping the sun to get it back for another year. The grasses and flowers were beginning to show again and even the bravest of the fire flies were making fluttering appearances, to the delight of schoolchildren everywhere.

But the best part of March was the sound of those ice cream truck engines starting to rev outside the Good Humor factory. Those engine sounds would be followed by food festivals and church barbecues and, what Jericho could only assume, would be a pool party. But Jericho was trying not to get ahead of himself. He just needed to get past this one year and then he could open himself to that world. Just one more year.

"Hey Jericho, did you watch the award show last night? I know you told Mercedes that you saw that movie with Gabrielle something or other in it."

Jericho looked up from his desk. He was hovering over it, squinting, trying to make sense of his own dastardly short hand when Quinn stopped by. While reviewing the tapes later in his head, he realized that Puck had been standing in the doorway watching the whole time. "Yeah, I did. Ummm...Push was the abbreviated title, right? I liked it, but I haven't seen Mercedes today. Our paths don't cross much."

_I don't think that I could take another empty moment_

"It won a couple of really good awards. You really don't watch the award shows? Seriously, nobody studies as much as you."

Jericho shrugged in response. "Eh, some of us don't have charisma for our transcripts. I just want to move on to bigger and better things. Like out of this class."

_I don't think that I could fake another hollow smile_

Quinn nodded as she walked to her normal seat. "I know what you mean, I hate this class."

It was all business and no pleasure by the time the bell rang. Mrs. Savelli's mid-quarter surprise pop quiz was the nearest thing to a hard midterm as you could get in an econ class, which for Jericho was excruciating enough without the thought of Quinn in his head. It wasn't that he liked her or coveted her popularity, it had been about something she had said...what was it?

....nobody studies as much as you....

_Its not enough just to be lonely_

And there it was. The light bulb went off in Jericho's head in his mind went in one direction, trying to see what the possibles were for the scenario. As much as he tried to map out his life, he realized how little good it could truly do. But he hated feeling powerless. And when he twitched his head discreetly so that he saw Quinn out of the corner of his eye, he knew. If he blew the teacher's curve like normal, she was gonna fail.

The good thing about knowing the teacher was that you knew their personal habits. You knew when they needed a break, when to give them room to talk about their kids, what things got them going off on irate tangents, you know, the fun stuff. Mrs. Savelli was not an easy target to get out of the room. She wasn't hawk-like enough that you had to remove shoes to take a test or anything, but she wouldn't leave class nor would anyone leave class during tests.

Her curve grades also came on a basis which only rewarded stellar performance. She had grown up in a sort of Communist, with a big "C" if its to be understood as opposed to the practice of communism with a little "c", satellite and testing was the important indicator for her of how successful her teaching status could be.

Jericho suddenly became very nervous. He wasn't sure if he should be more thrilled by the notion that he could still make a choice to take a dive for someone else, the Plan did not include for selfless acts but was more of a loner-Chosen One type of plan, or that his heart was fluttering. He wasn't sure his heart could still flutter.

_I don't think that I could take another talk about it_

Still, when time was over and the bell had rung and kids were shuffling out with drained faces, he felt energized and surreal. That might be why, on the way to his lunch spot on the bleachers, he actually stopped when Ms. Pillsbury waved from her office instead of pretending to be too busy to stop in and "just say hi". He was running out of storage room for any pamphlets she might force on him.

But at least she wasn't passive aggressive. Jericho could live without any more of that in his life.

Jericho didn't quite recognize the back of Mr. Schuester sitting in the other chair until he turned as Jericho stood at the doorway. "Sorry if I'm interrupting."

_And just like me, you've not needs_

"Not interrupting at all," Ms. Pillsbury smiled in her own innocent way, "just saw you in the hallway and thought gee, I don't really see him, even when he schedules an appointment."

_And they're only a whisper away_

Will stretched out a hand for Jericho to grab in a shake. "Miss Pillsbury and I were just shooting the breeze about some of the stuff we've got in store for Glee this year. I think I've met you, haven't I?"

Jericho nodded. "Yeah, we bumped into each other once or twice. And I actually am free for a moment, well if you don't have any..."

_And we softly surrender to these lives that we've tendered away_

Ms. Pillsbury shook her head. "No, no, come in. Tell me how you are."

"I...uh...okay." Jericho shrugged and settled into the nearby seat. "I'm busy, truth be told."

"Its a real shame you were so busy," Mr. Schuester whistled low as he spoke, "I had Rachel drop off some of her world famous sugar cookies last week and you missed your appointment."

_Lord, I would not sleep in this bed of lies_

"Well, I'm sure I can survive missing a cookie or two."

Ms. Pillsbury simply nodded. "I find it to be pretty effective. Its good to know that some things never really change. Like kids and sugar cookies."

Jericho smiled while crossing his arms. "You'll find cookies are a good motivator, but probably not for me. I've been bribed with 'em one too many times. Church runs a stock and trade in 'em."

_So toss me out and turn in _

Ms. Pillsbury batted her eyelashes. "Church can be a good thing though. Its a chance to organize themes of community around thematic faith and traditions. You get a sense of inclusion alongside times of reflection and peace."

"Yeah, well, we have differing opinions on that then. I still do church for my transcript. I still do the choir thing and the usher thing and occasionally the Sunday school thing, so if I want Ivy League I can have it and with my extracurriculars, I can take a West Coast school if I choose that. Its all a matter of angles. Its all one big game of who's playing who."

_And there'll be no rest for these tired eyes_

"That's an awfully cynical attitude for somebody so young." Ms. Pillsbury's wide-eyes narrowed just a bit, softening at the edges as she peered into a closing heart.

"And for somebody that likes choir," Mr. Schuester added as though it were a second thought.

Jericho shook his head. "It's not really about what I like Mr. Schuester. Its about whats necessary."

_I'm marking it down to learning_

Mr. Schuester blinked without missing a beat. "You have all your life to do what other people want. You should be doing what you want right now."

Jericho shrugged. "According to my mom, I do."

Ms. Pillsbury's hands folded underneath her chin as she peered delicately at Jericho. "But what is it you do want?"

_I'm marking it down to learning_

Jericho suddenly felt a need to stand and rearrange the pack strap on his shoulder. "I don't know. To get out of Lima. I mean, I figure once I'm gone..."

"You don't magically figure out what you want when you move. Take me," Mr. Schue stated, "for example. I took accounting in college out of state, but that didn't make me happy, it just made me money."

Jericho turned to face Mr. Schuester. "Yeah, but its easier for you. You had options."

"Not at many as people might think."

_Cause I can_

"You know, if you're in the choir at your church, you might like Glee!" Ms. Pillsbury chipped in from her desk.

Jericho shook his head. "So, thats what this is all about? My calendar's pretty full. If all you're looking for is fresh blood, you're looking at someone who's tapped out. I'm only in choir cause it looks good, I'm really not all that talented. But thanks for the offer."

Mr. Schuester watched Jericho Phin leave Ms. Pillsbury's office and hurry in the direction from whence he had come. Jericho walked quickly away from the office, to the furthest point on the bleachers he could find. Bodies on the practice field crunched heartily as Coach Tanaka yelled from one bull horn and Sue Sylvester from another.

Jericho didn't have much time to calm himself when the shadow of Noah Puckerman fell across the bleachers.

_Don't wanna be the one to turn the whole thing over_

"You, you're that kid in the econ class."

"Yeah?" It's number 63, he thought without missing a beat. "I having tutoring hours if that's what you need. I have a card in my..."

"What I need," Noah continued, his voice stopping Jericho cold while he searched through his bag as he sat, "is for you to stop trying to flirt with Quinn Fabray. She's not interested."

_Don't wanna be somewhere where I just don't belong_

"Ummm....okay...." Jericho drew out his response, confused.

"No, dude, seriously. Stop flirting."

Jericho nodded, looking up at Noah. "Okay. I didn't know that I was, but okay. I'll let her know I'm not flirting."

Noah blinked in response, leaning in to make sure Jericho understand the emphasis"Dude, you don't tell her you're not gonna talk to her. Just blow her off."

_Well, its not enough just to be sorry_

"Yeah, I, ummm....I don't really want to do that."

_Don't you know, I feel the darkness closing in_

Noah flexed his fingers into a light fist. "I'm not giving you the option. I just watched the econ teacher, Snorvelli. Seems like she's worried about something and she's not doin' very well."

"And this correlates to me how?"

"I watched you. You took a dive, didn't you?!"

_I try to be more than me_

"Should I be flattered or creeped out that you watched me an entire period?"

_And I gave til it all went away_

Noah approached, grabbing Jericho by the cuff, for which his body unsettlingly relaxed, ready to absorb the punch. "Look, you're a nice kid with a nice future. Don't mess it up by forcing me to mess you up. Got it?"

"Got it," Jericho gulped through his throat. "No more dives."

_And we softly surrender to worst parts of the winter that we've made_

Noah released Jericho's collar with a snarl. "Good. Now get out of here."

Jericho didn't argue, his heart seeming to find its beat again.

Its not fair, he thought as he found himself walking up a staircase to his next period during lunch, you try to do something nice for someone for the first time in a long time, and some jock threatens to beat you up! What a world we live in....

_God help me, I need this_

Part of Jericho wanted to tell Quinn that she had someone like Noah looking out for her, but she was a strong girl. She was still walking around with Santana, Brittany, or sometimes even Finn at her heels and she didn't need that. No, Jericho would just try to chalk this up to an experience and keep it to himself as long as he could.

_No, I could not sleep in this bed of lies_

He watched the busy drones of McKinley High as they passed underneath the staircase and he ate his turkey on wheat with just a dab of mustard. He could see his shadow passing over them, the light of the sun cast behind him. They seemed happy somehow, oblivious in some other ways. Jericho envied that sometimes, but he had a Plan. The Plan was the most important thing.

_So toss me out and turn in_

_And they'll be no rest for these tired eyes_

Then he watched Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury pass on their way to the teacher's lounge. They were talking, walking close together and Will had said something to make Emma laugh. He picked up a book when she dropped it in the midst of a giggle and Jericho just stood there, watching it happen, watching life. And the beginning inklings, the wondering of if he was doing the right think, started to seep into the depths of the stone he had rolled against his heart for protection.

_I'm marking it down to learning_

_I am_

Author's Note: Song by Matchbox Twenty "_Bed of Lies_" from their sophomore Mad Season album.


	4. April

As far as Jericho Phin was concerned, the entire month of April could be banished from the face of the earth and he would not miss it. Not one bit. But, as it stood, he had no control over the calendar and just simply had to deal with it. To bad "it" was more than he cared for.

_Can't believe its over_

_I watched the whole thing fall apart_

His room was silent until Jericho's mom poked her head in. She had already taken the door off of the frame the year he turned thirteen, so there was really nothing to stop her from coming in except her own mood. Over the years, Jericho had become really fantastic at hiding emotions from her, but she knew that today was going to be hard for him. Jericho at least had that as his saving grace.

_And I never saw all the writing that was on the wall_

Aimee Phin tried tentatively to connect with her son. "I could try to call in sick."

Jericho shook his head in response, with a lethargy that disturbed them both. "No. I'll be okay. I just needed a personal day."

"Do you want me to make some tea? Rossi gave me this recipe you might like..."

Jericho's eyes glazed over at the mention of Rossi's name. "Go to work, mom."

"Okay dear, but I'm just a phone call away."

_How the days were fading fast_

_The good things never last_

Jericho didn't respond as she crossed the room to kiss the top of his forehead, her hands nearly wrenching his head upwards to do so. He didn't fight the ice cold fingers or the cat smell that reeked from her.

_You were crying_

He listened for the sounds of his mother leaving the house as he sat in his chair, book opened on his lap. It was a cross between a clear day and a grey day, not a cloud in sight but without too much hazy sun. The leaves were all back on the trees as well, which he preferred in this interim between winter and the coming allergy season. Allergies were his mortal enemy, among other things.

_Summer turned to winter_

_And the snow it turned to rain_

_And the rain turned in to teardrops on my face_

She turned from the sidewalk as she walked toward her car, his being parked in the garage without use. Well, technically, it had been his and dad's dream project. Spare parts from the Jeep were probably still lying around in there. Neither Jericho nor Aimee had been in there in a very long time. Jericho managed a wave, causing his mother to smile and return the wave before getting in her car. He knew she would have never left if he hadn't shown movement.

_You'd hardly recognize the boy I am today_

_And God, I hope its not too late_

_Its not too late_

Jericho breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally gone. Closing the book, he turned it over in his hands. It felt solid to him and yet...the book felt as though it could go through him if he tried hard enough. Finally getting up from his chair, Jericho replaced the book on his bookshelf, the one from grandpa's old study made from rosewood, and walked down to the kitchen.

Rummaging about, he found the leftover pizza. It was cold, the pepperonis a bit more pink than they were when the pizza had been fresh. He chewed without tasting, the sound of mastication the only sound in the place, save for the ticking of the clock. If anyone had looked in on the scene just then, they never would have guessed that it was Jericho Phin's birthday.

_Life can show no mercy_

_It can tear your soul apart_

Ten minutes after the pizza was gone and the box was put out for cardboard recycling, Jericho headed silently for the attic. The attic itself was just as clean as the rest of the house, though mostly maintained by him in secret. He even foraged up here for mom's sewing supplies when she needed them.

_It can make you feel like you've gone crazy_

_When you're not_

There was a chest and two boxes in the corner near the window. Jericho had tried moving them more than once, but no other place seemed right. His entire body seemed to go numb as he sat, cross legged, right next to the chest and took the key from the hidden pocket he had in all his shirts, just in case he had to pack quickly.

_Though things have seemed to change_

_There's one thing that's still the same_

That lovely musty smell rose from the chest and Jericho took a moment to soak the smell in, his fingers trembling as they slid along the lip of the chest lid. The chest was real, the contents were real. But Jericho didn't feel real anymore.

_In my heart, you have remained_

The chest was always a bittersweet experience because it reminded him that all of it was his fault: his situation, his mother's pain...everything. But he pushed that thought out of his mind as he picked up the post cards from the top. Dad had loved to get post cards any time he passed through a state and they had several varieties from California, when dad had gone on choral expeditions with the church.

_And we will fly, fly, fly away_

He liked the ones from Florida the best, because Dad had written messages on the back in a hurry and the tail end of some of the words had these weird little splotches or were just a bit smeared. Jericho and his father had shared the joys and pains of being a southpaw. To this day, whenever Jericho wrote anything, he would look at the black line on the side of his hand and try to make it a mark of distinction rather than something to foam over.

_Cause you are not alone_

_I'm always here with you_

Placing the post cards carefully to his empty side, Jericho picked up his dad's favorite book from the chest. He knew that there were other books in the boxes behind the chest and some clothes, but this was his favorite. It reminded him of dad. His dad, who would read Hamlet to him as a kid and act out all the parts, having Jericho make him a crown when he was king and being generally obnoxious until mom would come in the room and tell him to knock it off.

_And we'll get lost together_

_Until the light comes pouring through_

There were three feathers beneath the red leather book. Two of them were from a down pillow when they would pillow fight on Saturday morning while mom made french toast and one was from the tail of a hawk that had dropped onto the trail one summer after Jericho had finished cub scouts. That had been the summer before the accident.

_Cause when you feel like you're done_

_And the darkness has won_

Jericho stopped for a moment, leaning into the chest so his head just touched the side. He had cried here so many times but couldn't seem to do it anymore. He had loved that man. He had been so foolish.

********************A week before his sixth birthday******************

"Dad! I want an ice cream cake for my birthday!"

"Why?" Gabriel Phin had chuckled, as if he didn't already know the answer.

"Because...they have that new mint flavor at Maggie Moo's!"

Dad had just shaken his head. "But mom's making you that cake. I thought you said you liked her cakes."

Jericho's silence had been incriminating, but his dad had merely chuckled and slid down from his recliner to join Jericho on the floor. "Tell you what, you'll get your ice cream cake as long as you don't tell mom that I don't like the way she makes lasagna."

Jericho's face had broken out into a smile and that followed with a laugh, which made Dad teasing him into a pinky swear all the harder. Eventually, Gabriel had just given up and they had collapsed on the floor in a tickle fight until mom had tried to come in and break it up, swatting at them with a dish towel.

"For heaven sakes, Gabe! Get off the floor, I just ironed those pants!"

It had been stormy the night of his birthday, great gusts of wind that always seemed to be on the prairie. Dad had been coming home with the cake when the wind hit the car just right. He had flipped out of his seat belt and when Jericho had seen the photos years later of the hand, just the hand, caught between the window and the door, he had thrown up until he had thought he would never eat again.

***************************Present Day********************

There were more things in the bottom of chest, but Jericho only reached in as a rote response, his heart lacking the ability to feel after that. His dad's old vest and hat came out of the box. The hat was this black fedora that felt as though it were made out of beaver pelt, and had this stripe of color right above the brim. Dad's vest had red silk on the back and smoky grey in differing lights and darks on the front.

_Babe, you're not lost_

When Jericho put them on, he saw his father in the attic's full-length mirror with one cracked edge. He buttoned the top two buttons slowly and then stopped. Damn_,_ he thought, I was hoping that I wouldn't cry this time.

_When the world is crashing down _

_And you cannot bear the cross_

Jericho was lucky that he heard the knock on the front door and the only reason he did was because he had trained his ears to strain for movement, mostly his mother's. But his mom hadn't forgotten dinner or wasn't surprising him or anything like that. It was...

_I said baby, you're not lost_

"Tina!"

Tina gave a little wave with her gloved hand. "I just came by to make sure you were okay."

Jericho shook his head, which still had his father's hat on it. "How'd you know where I live?"

Tina smiled as she pointed. "Finn Hudson, one of the guys from Glee, lives right down the street."

Jericho poked his head out to follow the direction of Tina's fingers. "Oh, fantastic. Where are my manners? Come in please."

"I don't think you've ever missed a day," Tina spoke as she entered.

Jericho chuckled in response as he closed the door behind them both. "It's rare, believe me."

"I also didn't know you had such cool outfits at home, you should wear that to school more often."

"What?" It took Jericho a second to understand that she was talking about his father's vest and hat. "Oh, umm...no...this is kind of embarrassing. Its old stuff of my dad's."

"It looks great on you, it really fits."

Jericho's voice fell to almost a whisper as he felt his hands shake and the need for a stiff belt of scotch on the rocks like he saw in the movies. "Thanks. You've got an insanely large book in your arms. Is that our new bio book?"

Tina nodded. "Oh yeah, the other reason. You missed book exchange day and so I thought I would bring you your copy."

Jericho shook his head. "Nah. I planned for this, I already had it worked out."

"Oh," Tina stated with obvious embarrassment," well, I guess I sh-sh-should have figured that. Y-y-you're always so prepared."

Jericho shook his head. "Not really. I still suck at bio, but less then chemistry. I hate math."

"Me too! And everyone thinks because I'm asian that I should be good at it."

"Here, let me grab that." Jericho set the book on the side table, making a mental note to return it. "I can return it to Mr. P. My dad had a saying Tina, you don't have to be good at everything. You just have to suck less at some things to get by."

"Never heard that one before."

Jericho shrugged. "My dad was an odd man, but honest and loving."

Tina bowed her head. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't...."

Jericho gave a half-hearted smiled. "That's okay. Most people don't know or don't remember."

"I c-c-can understand that."

It was a good thing that the phone rang at that moment, the conversation needed a moment to relieve the awkward pause. Jericho excused himself and Tina only heard him swear lightly under his breath once, which she found odd because she could never remember hearing Jericho swear before.

"So," Jericho began when he returned, "how about a half-priced smoothie?"

"I don't understand."

Jericho let out a large breath of air through his nose before looking as though he were gonna rest his arms on top of his head. "My boss just called, said he needed me tonight because our new kid wasn't working out. I figure I can con a smoothie out of him for ya, since you had to lug that obnoxious book all the way here."

Tina smiled again. "I love fruit smoothies. But whats the half-price part?"

"We have to walk to get there," Jericho replied flatly.

Tina didn't seem to mind the walk though. The sky was still clear, but darker. Street lights were coming on and most of the houses had that inviting television glow starting to pop up. Jericho and Tina walked in amicable silence.

"So, whats up with you and Artie?"

"What do you mean?" Tina asked in reply.

"I mean, are you a couple?"

"Why do you ask?"

Jericho chuckled, shaking his head. "We're never gonna get anywhere like this. I'm asking because I knew Artie before the accident but we lost touch after and its good to know that he's not lonely, I guess."

Tina seemed to like that answer. "Well, to answer your question: yes, for the most part. So, how did you know Artie? I mean, I've never seen you hang out."

Jericho shrugged as they walked. "Its a small town, you either know all the kids by choice or you don't."

"I g-g-guess. And what about you?"

Jericho furrowed his brow as they stopped to rest, his back against a tree and arms folded loosely. "What about me what?"

_I'm not surprised_

_Not everything lasts_

"Do you have someone that k-k-keeps you from g-g-getting lonely? Unless that's too personal, I mean."

_I've broken my heart so many times I stopped keeping track_

"I don't. And I can't imagine doing that in Lima. It's not in the Plan until I'm out, at least."

"Its good to have a plan, but what if someone liked you?"

_Talk myself in, talk myself out_

Jericho cocked his head. "Do you know something I don't?"

_Get all worked up and I let myself down_

Tina thought for a moment. "Well, its just that, you know, the kids in Glee have seen you hanging out with Quinn a lot and I thought..."

Jericho rolled his eyes. "I admire her. Nothing is going on between us. I mean, who else would have the ability to have a kid, lose her place at the top of the dog pile, and still be a fighter? She's incredibly cool to be around now."

_I'll have to wait, I'll never give up_

"Would you date her?"

Jericho bit down on his lip and then playfully moved around the tree trunk, popping his head out of the other side. "What do you think?"

_I guess it's half timing and the other half's luck_

Tina shook her head in merriment. "I don't know. Shouldn't we be getting to the smoothie shop?"

"Eh, it'll still be there when we get there. It can't burn down, we don't have any ovens or anything."

"You didn't answer my question about Quinn."

_And darling we could be so amazing_

Jericho put a sly smile on his face. "You're right, I didn't. I'd rather sing about it."

_And your sweet love is gonna save me_

Jericho started to walk backwards as he sang, nearly killing himself as he tripped into a mailbox but that only made Tina laugh and sing along all the harder.

"But, of course, dear Tina, your answer is no. Simply put, I'm not looking to date and neither is she. I would just rather have a friend."

_I know I had thought of every possibility_

"Well, thats admirable. But what are you looking for then?"

"As long as she's not my mom, I think I can deal with anything. Maybe thats why my mom is always trying to fix me up with this girl in church thats just like her."

"Sounds like a pain," Tina replied.

"Yeah, parents are funny like that, but you learn to live with it."

"I think we're coming out of the neighborhood, Jericho...does anyone have a nickname for you, like Jerri or something?"

_And somehow I know that it'll all turn out_

_You'll make it work so we can work to work it out_

_And I promise you kid_

_I'll get so much more than I get_

"No one's ever offered."

_I just haven't met you yet_

Jericho stopped a few feet from the shop, putting his arm out to protect Tina.

"Wh-wh-what's wrong?"

Jericho's brow furrowed. "The lights are off, thats weird. I hope Parker hasn't forgotten that he called me."

"Not too busy for a Tuesday night in this part of downtown either," Tina stated nonchalantly as they crossed the street.

Jericho shook his head as they got to the door. "It never is."

"Should we knock?"

Jericho reached for the door handle. "Nah, I have the alarm code."

But when he opened the door, the lights flooded on and a stream of balloons seemed to hit him from nowhere.

"What the..."

"Surprise!" came the volley of voices.

Jericho turned this way and that until Tina had pushed him into the store, closing the door behind herself so that none of the balloons escaped.

Jericho caught Parker first as he started laughing. Jericho grabbed Parker's hand into a shake then a hug. "You old scoundrel. How did you manage this?"

Kurt, with a hand on his hip, produced a large card in a purple Hallmark envelope. "He didn't. Mercedes and I saw you working last week and decided to call to see if you were in since you didn't come to school today."

Parker nodded in his gruff voice. "Yeah, and I told them that you were taking your birthday off, like you always had."

"But dude," Finn came up and put a hand on his shoulder while Jericho was turning the card over in his hands, "nobody should spend their birthday alone."

"However," Rachel chipped in from behind the counter, where she was putting colored flame candles on a homemade sheet cake, "if it was up to Finn, it wouldn't have been a party at all."

Puck shook his head from the corner he seemed to be sulking in. I mean, who wants to be at the party of a guy who you told to back off the girl you got pregnant? "Dudes don't celebrate birthdays with lame parties, Berry."

"Please. There's nothing lame about having to blow up two dozen balloons in one night."

Brittany looked from where she was standing with Santana, next to the nutritional guide on the wall. "But you had fun staying at my house, blowing up all those balloons, didn't you?"

Jericho looked around in disbelief, turning a 180 throughout the store lobby. "Thanks everyone. I...I don't know what to say."

_And I know that we can be so amazing_

"How about, here's to a great next year?" Artie wheeled by while raising a can of soda in a mock toast. "Maybe even getting to hear you sing once."

"Sure," Jericho chuckled as his eyes caught Tina, "and thanks."

_And being in your life is gonna change me_

Tina looked down at her own shoes. "It wouldn't have been m-m-much of a surprise party without the s-s-surprise, Jerri."

"Okay," Rachel stated, "I think you should start blowing the candles out before the mint chip ice cream melts."

_And now I can see every single possibility_

"Mint chip?" Jericho's voice tried to hold down its squeak.

Quinn smiled from where she was next to Rachel, frosting still fresh under her nails. "I hope you didn't mind that I dug up some information on you. You know how hard that was? Don't keep to yourself so much, you jerk. And happy birthday."

"Now blow out your candles," Kurt smiled.

"And make a wish," Mercedes added.

"You deserve it, kid," Parker whispered without reservation.

_I said love, love, love, love_

Jericho moved forward to the cake. It was done in school colors with m and ms around the border and a giant smiley face of m and ms around Happy Birthday done in swirly red frosting. The candles were pretty and the lights were lowered just enough that they glowed over everyone's faces.

_Love, love, love, love, love_

Jericho blew out the candles, but he couldn't think of a single wish. For just that moment, he was happier than he could ever remember being.

_I just haven't met you yet_

A/N: Songs for April: Michael Buble's "_Lost_" and "_Haven't Met You Yet_"


	5. May

_Who is this king of Glory _

_That fills me with his love_

Jericho sat at the piano in the empty rehearsal room. He had planned to be alone, made sure this was one of the auditorium rehearsal days for Mr. Schue's club. He liked the room when it was quieter, not that he was ever there very often.

_And haunts me with each hearing _

_Of his softly whispered words_

He wasn't trying as hard as he could at church, Jericho recognized that. He also knew what he had told Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury about his work in choir. Truth was, it wasn't just a transcript buffer. His work in gospel had meant something to him. It had meant a connection with his father, the kind of thing that his mother couldn't pack away or sell. Not like she hadn't tried though.

_My conscience a reminder_

_of forgiveness that I need_

Jericho hadn't been much for instruments besides his voice. Sure, he supposed he could pick one up and learn it studiously. He had even toyed with the idea. But he liked the idea of leaving the magic of the instrument intact all the more. He knew enough to play simple melodies, not much more than that. More would be too much like dad, whose fingers ghosted over the keys. Who looked at him approvingly the first time he had a small solo in that almost crowded cathedral.

_He is the King of Glory_

_He is everything to me_

"You know, you are quite good."

Jericho's fingers slipped from the keyboard as though they were never there, at the sound of the compliment. He put his arm over his eyes to look as though he had been resting instead of concentrating too hard on the notes.

"You snuck up on me."

"Thanks dude, but its pretty hard for a guy in a wheelchair to sneak up on anybody."

"How you doin' today, Artie?"

Artie wheeled to a stop beside the bench where Tinkles usually sat. "Can't complain. Too much homework, not enough time to work on the rhyme. You know how it goes."

Jericho gave a half-hearted smile and a shrug. "I suppose."

"You know, not to be a ball buster or anything, but you don't have to avoid our table during lunch, Jer."

Jericho shook his head earnestly at Artie. "I promise that I'm not avoiding you guys. I appreciate the invite. I'm just kind of ...a loner. Plus, gotta study for calc. Its one of the few classes that I probably need tutoring in."

Artie thought for a moment. "Hey, there is always a free seat if you change your mind. And let me be the first to invite to you the Glee guys poker night on Thursdays after practice."

Will was walking down the hallway with sheet music when he heard Artie's voice in the practice room. He moved slowly down the hallway, peeking in at the not quite familiar voice seated at the piano. He gasped when he saw that Jericho was in his practice room with Artie. He stayed positioned to eavesdrop.

Jericho chuckled, putting the lid down on the piano. "How many times do I have to remind you guys that I'm not in Glee?"

"But you could be, if you wanted."

Jericho took a deep breath. "I promise I'll think about the poker, no other promises though."

"Alright. I just came in to pick up my bag, then I'll be out of your hair."

Artie rolled over to one of the chairs with his backpack on it. He plucked it up, placing it on his lap, and then turned expertly toward the door where Mr. Schuester was hovering, hoping he could hear an in. All he needed was an in to pry open the door on Jericho. There was something in his eyes that told Will that he needed glee club, even if he couldn't admit it to himself.

Jericho mumbled to himself and then shut his eyes, bracing himself for the dumbest question he had ever asked. "Artie, wait. You got a second?"

Artie halted at the door. "Sure, what can I do for ya?"

"Rachel Berry is lead female vocals here, right?"

"Yeah. Of course, she'd be mascot of the club if she could be. But she doesn't have what Journey, Mercedes' fish, has."

"Scales?"

"The ability to not talk every once in awhile."

"So...she's good?"

Artie rolled his eyes. "That's not the point. She knows she's good and sometimes, thats great. Like at Sectionals, but at other times...its all I can do from grabbing one of Kurt's bedazzled gloves and shoving it down her throat. Why do you ask?"

Jericho nodded to himself, sighing. "Just taking a poll."

"Look, man, you can be honest with me. I'll have your back."

"Alright. Its just...how do you deal with it?"

Artie shrugged. "I ignore her mostly. Its just that...well, you learn to. We're all pretty much either overpowered or annoyed by Rachel Berry and you just kind of get used to it. Is that what this song is about?"

"Kind of. You see, I was digging around in a sheet music bin and I found a dog-eared copy of this song. I'd love to do it for church cause it was...its special, got a great melody and its a good chance to get a couple guitar players involved in choir stuff. But theres this soprano..."

"Talk to the director. As much as Mr. Schue favors Rachel, he tries to help others. Even if subconsciously he always wants to give her and Finn the leads."

"She's interim director though and our choir master went to college with her. They've known each other for longer than my parents had even been at the church."

Artie wheeled over to the sheet music, furrowing his brow. He spoke when he finally looked at Jericho. "Its a great song and you've got a really good point about getting guitars involved. Maybe you could even use me and the jazz club as a gimmick? Its worth a shot to hear what you can do."

Jericho picked up the music and held it close. There must have been something in it that he didn't see. Artie was already heading toward the door when he put it back on the piano. Will was bolting down the hallway so that Artie wouldn't know he had been eavesdropping and so he could come back in from the same direction as the auditorium.

_His name is Jesus_

_Precious Jesus_

_God Almighty, King of my heart, King of glory_

"I think you should take Artie up on his offer."

Jericho sat, his legs extended across the large space where the window had been in the sill. A bag of Oreos sat between himself and Quinn. She was sitting, feet planted downward, on the other side of the window. He had never intended to befriend Quinn, but that one test dive had turned into a tutoring opportunity and then to lunch once a week. She had bargained him down by saying she was glad to have a friend "after the fact." Didn't take a genius to figure out what she had meant. Plus, what guy can refuse a girl that shares Oreos with him?

"Don't you think it sounds tacky?" Jericho countered while licking the frosting off of the middle of his last cookie for lunch.

Quinn noted out of the corner of her eye that Rachel was leading Finn on while they were eating lunch yet again, practically drooling and blushing and doing all those annoying feminine things that made Quinn want to gag up her Activa strawberry yogurt. She turned to look at Jericho. "Look, you've got someone who might deserve to be the best because its the thing that everyone thinks she's better at. But if you've got one chance, one moment...you gotta grab for that."

Jericho turned the licked cookie over so she could see the frosting was gone in record time and then he popped the chocolate victoriously into his mouth, coughing out of the unexpected exuberance. "Food for thought," he choked out over the muffled sound of cookie.

Quinn just shook her head at the general nerdiness of boys. "We should get going to class."

Jericho finally got a breather from the Oreo of death. "Right. Going my way?"

Jericho sat up, humoring everyone since they thought that Jericho was head over heels for Quinn anyways. He extended his arm with a flourish, Puck pretending as though he didn't notice and Finn not noticing since he couldn't see over Rachel's head anyways. Matt and Mike were arm wrestling and Kurt was keeping score, so he couldn't even scoff at the assessment at the moment.

"What a gentleman," Quinn pretending to fawn over Jericho's gallantry and they walked out of the cafeteria with her arm placed delicately in his own. They were headed to class when they passed the announcement board and Quinn had to stop to check and see who was on the list for the different prom courts.

Jericho folded his arms. "These things are rigged you know."

Quinn shrugged, turning from the board to Jericho and back again. "Can't help it. This was my life for a really long time. Call it a character flaw." She continued to scan and Jericho only turned to see when she gasped.

"What?"

"Look at King's Court."

It took Jericho a moment to find it on the yellow sheet. He had already assumed that all three Cheerio Gleeks were nominated for Queen or Princess or whatever and that Kurt might have been thrown in there. He saw Finn's name once, but it wasn't what he didn't see that made his heart jump. It was what he did see.

Jericho didn't get over the shock of nomination right away. It didn't make much sense to him and by the time that he and mom had sat down to dinner, he was almost convinced that it was either a joke or a throwaway nomination and, transcript or not, he wanted no part of it.

It was chicken Alfredo with broccoli that night. Mom had put mozzarella in the dish, dad's favorite cheese. Jericho was suspicious. She only made chicken Alfredo for semi-special occasions.

"How was your day at school dear?" She asked while trying to glance discreetly at the clock.

"Fine," Jericho mumbled. He had already moved on from joke nominations to planning the Saturday soup kitchen fund raiser with the krispy kremes at the policemans relay. It would be like shooting two birds in one barrel. _Wait a second_, Jericho thought, _that metaphor doesn't sound correct_.

"I'll get it," Jericho's mom jumped up when the doorbell rang and nearly sprinted to the front door.

"If its the Jehovah's Witnesses again, tell them we've already been sold our tickets out of the 144,00," he called back out to mask his suspicion. And he was right to be suspicious.

Rossi entered right behind Jericho's mom. Of course, Jericho mumbled to himself. To be fair, Rossi wasn't bad looking and she was pretty much throwing herself at him. Her chestnut brown hair was a pretty long length for how wavy it was without getting tangled and her jean skirt matched her white tennis sweater with blue braiding to perfection. Even her overly white and yet adorable hint of buck teeth seemed normal and almost fetching.

"Rossi, how nice to see you. But we're in the middle of dinner."

It was a long night after that. Rossi was trying to cozy up to him or get in league with him or some such nonsense like that. She probably thinks she's losing me to Quinn, if the rumors have reached Mt. Carmel, Jericho thought. Problem with that is that she never had me to begin with.

Jericho was as patient as he could stand to be until the third time she had insinuated that he had really planned to try and usurp the worship leader. As much as he did want more solo time for himself, he wondered exactly how many people were under this same assumption. Its though people wanted intrigue over the commonly known fact that she always took time off in the summer for missions trips.

It was only after she left with her flow charts and romantic ideas that Jericho felt like he could breathe again. He sat at his laptop on the dining room table, his mom in earshot of the clicks. She was pretty adamant about keeping his computer in plain sight, most likely in case she thought he was checking out something less than savory. His mom really did live under rainbows of delusion.

The instant messaging chirp popped up in the middle of his Google search. It was a name he didn't quite recognize.

Titanqb27: hey, is this Jericho Phin?

Mrbkworm: yeah...who's this?

Titanqb27: This is Finn Hudson, from McKinley.

Mrbkworm: how did you get my AIM?

Titanqb27: From Quinn. She said she didn't think you would mind.

Mrbkworm: Okay...what can I do for ya, Finn?

Titanqb27: Dude, I just had to tell you how psyched I was that you got a king's court nom! Congrats

Mrbkworm: Thanks, I guess.

Titanqb27: What, you're not excited?

Mrbkworm: Not really. I think I'm the joke nom.

Titanqb27: That's even better then

Mrbkworm: ...

Titanqb27: Then you can show'em how cool you are. You do a ton of stuff around the school.

Mrbkworm: So, you think I should take this seriously?

Titanqb27: Absolutely.

Jericho made a little clicking noise on the inside of his mouth. If Finn thought it was a good idea, there was a chance it would backfire. Finn was more optimistic than Jericho liked to choose to be. But if Quinn had cared enough to try and convince Jericho through Finn, then maybe it was worth it to try. Even Jericho could admit that being Court King would look pretty good school spirit, and transcript, wise.

He sat back on his chair in the dining room, looking at the blinking cursor. He made a casual fist, resting his lips against one knuckle. If he were to actually take this seriously and host a campaign, he would not only have to take his opponents seriously but the idea of school spirit. It occurred to him that people probably thought he already had Titan Pride by virtue of the fact that he did so much behind the scenes.

Nothing was farther from the truth. Jericho talked longer with Finn about nothing in particular and he went to Google search to look up stuff on McKinley High after he had closed the messaging box for the account that Quinn had urged him to get if she needed homework help. What can Jericho say? He's a sucker to help people succeed who want it.

He furrowed his brow when he saw the link to the Sue's Corner youtube vid. He had never actually watched Sue's Corner, the nightly news made him way too jumpy and paranoid, but he figured if she was any indication of what people at the school actually liked, then he had better brace for impact and watch the video.

What Sue said was shocking and underhanded. Jericho's lips never moved from his knuckle. He was entranced by the rubbernecking that she produced through these segments, an obvious ploy for attention. Did she believe what she was saying? Further, what was the underlying implication there? Jericho was more inclined to believe that she was being sensationalist, and that made sense. No better way to grab Ohioan ratings than to implore to the fear mongering demographic that looked to blame others.

He knew it would be like playing with fire to talk with Coach Sylvester. She had a history of being unhinged and unpredictable and it wasn't as though Jericho had ever had a reason to talk to her before.

"Coach Sylvester, could I have a moment of your time?"

She turned at the sound of her name. Sue was wearing her light blue track suit that hugged her nonexistent curves with headband and bad Raquel Welchian sunglasses. The sound of a whirring Magic Bullet could be heard in her hand.

"You have ten seconds to tell me who you are and why I should care."

Jericho felt a dark thrill talking to Sue Sylvester. "I'm here to talk to you about how you see things," he quipped, juggling the books in his hand so he could make the c with his thumb and index finger.

"I'm listening."

"I know that you have no idea who I am and I might as well be any lemming to you, walking around the hall and kowtowing when you walk by. But I have potential to do a lot of good things. I want to get out of this one horse town and I need to win Kings Court to do it. Thoughts?"

"Let me stop you right there, Jericho. Yes, I know who you are. But I should tell you that you're wasting your time and you can't win."

Jericho quirked his brow. "Really? Are you going with reverse psychology?"

"No. And I'll explain why. Step into my office."

Jericho tried not to bat an eyelash at the office cum shrine to Sue Sylvester's success. He was temporarily blinded by the shine of the trophies and scuttled his way to a seat before she had allowed him. When she finally sat, Jericho thought of a shark bearing down on its prey.

"Here's the reality of the situation. You are the darling of this school. The teachers talk about you like you're the second coming of Bruce Willis. They are enamored with your brilliance and everything that you do to keep this school running. They gush about you. Its disgusting."

"Whats so wrong with that?" Jericho shrugged. "Its simply a product of my personality."

"Yeah," Sue agreed while folding her arms. "But the difference is that the kids out there, lemmings as you put them, don't gush about you. You wanna be popular? You don't have what it takes."

Jericho chuckled. "Still sounds like a challenge to me."

Sue shrugged. "Its not. Now, you have somewhere you need to be Somewhere that's not my office."

Jericho knew that Sue was right. He could look around and name five brands of clothing that he'd never wear and five stores in the mall that he'd never buy them from. If he had an iPod, it would probably be stocked with hours of music that would make most kids cringe and wrinkle their noses at. Jericho entertained the idea of just giving up on the whole farcical idea.

"Why in the world did you talk to her?" Quinn asked at lunch. "You know that she's manipulative."

Jericho shrugged as he munched on a carrot. "I thought it would be a good idea. I mean, if I wanted rainbows and sunshine, I would go to Mr. Schue or Ms. Pillsbury. But Coach Sylvester gave it to me straight and she's not wrong, you know, in her own way. I've had absolutely no vigilance about what my generation likes. I've only just recently even heard about Lady Gaga."

Quinn shook her head, a renegade bang falling across her brow. "You have to take anything she says with a grain of salt. I mean, look at the people she gets to follow her."

Jericho thought for a moment. "Besides the obvious, why did you do it?"

"I don't know," Quinn shrugged thoughtfully, looking over at Santana and Brittany. "I guess those reasons don't matter as much now as they did then. Having a kid puts things in perspective."

"What a way to gain perspective, though."

"Agreed," Quinn nodded.

May's Song Selection: _"King of Glory_" by Third Day


	6. June

"What are you doing here?"

Jericho looked up from the pile of books at Mercedes' questioning glance and shrugged. "Volunteering."

"Don't you have a job you should be at?"

"Yeah, but thats just a part time gig. Don't want my mom knowing though."

Mercedes found a rolling chair not far away and came back, reclining in it. Jericho quirked an eyebrow but didn't say anything until Mercedes asked him a question. "How'd you get this volunteer job anyways?"

"I read every book here when I was little," Jericho said in a low tone, his concentration on the book bindings and tape. He smoothed out a flat binding and then closed the book with a creak. "It just seemed like a natural transition."

"That's cool," Mercedes nodded. "I was never very much into books. Watched a lot of tv though."

Jericho smiled. "Dad didn't really want to get me addicted to tv. He made a conscious choice that I'm grateful for."

"Yeah, but you miss so much that way. What about the news, bad movies and stuff like that?"

"I don't feel like I missed out," Jericho shrugged.

"Cool then." They sat in amicable silence for awhile as Jericho finished his task. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Rebinding. Library's having a little trouble raising funds. Look over there," Jericho nodded and Mercedes followed his glance to the six little cubicles with kids at them, clicking away at computer reading games like mad fiends, "that is the future. And its slowly killing their minds."

"But they're still learning letters and reading, aren't they?"

Jericho shook his head. "It's not the same. When I was little, I had pages to turn. I remember each time I got a new book in the Boxcar Children series and how that felt. These kids, they don't know. And I don't think anyone realizes the damage it'll cause in the long run."

Mercedes got up from her seat and came around so that her eyes met Jericho's. "So? Do something about it. I mean, if you want to change something, take some initiative boy."

"Tried that," Jericho said while lowering his eyes and recalling a rather painful memory. "I dressed up in a clown outfit to try and host a reading circle here during Circus Month. I made three kids cry and the rest, well, they just didn't care."

"You can't give up, Jericho. If you love it...Mr. Schue says,"

"I'm well aware of what Mr. Schuester peddles," Jericho said with a bit of a bite that he instantly regretted. He softened his tone as he continued, "but this is the real world. Things like that don't happen here."

Mercedes shook her head. "I used to think that to. Then I learned that you just gotta stand up for yourself and the darkness lies flat on its back. Its scared of that, but those kids you want to help don't even know they need the books."

Jericho scooped up some bound books to take away and Mercedes followed. "I've tried everything I can think of. You got suggestions, be my guest."

Mercedes entered the back room, taken aback by the rows of children books that Jericho was trying to save. Some of them were worn with care, others looked like they had been chewed up and spit out by tornadoes. "I bet you I could think of something."

"Really?" Jericho said with a deflated voice as he set the books down to catalog on a long desk in the middle of the room. He craned his neck downward to fill out the salvage forms on a clipboard and left Mercedes to her own devices for a moment since she obviously hadn't caught the employees and volunteers only sign.

_Calling out around the world_

_Are you ready for a brand new beat?_

"What are you doing?" Jericho hissed at Mercedes as he looked around nervously. She had jumped up on top of the desk in her white Converse and was singing, doing little dance moves with it.

"I'm getting inspired, the only way I know how."

"This is a library, Mercedes!"

_Summer's here and the time is right_

_For dancing in the streets_

"There ain't nobody here and it seems to me that thats your problem, Jericho."

Jericho grabbed onto Mercedes' hand, trying to pull her off the desk. "You're causing a disturbance."

Mercedes scoffed. "No, you're just too comfortable." Mercedes did a little turn and some papers on the desk went flying around the room. Jericho went after the papers, turning to watch Mercedes as she singed, a bit of annoyance in his eyes.

_Its just an invitation across the nation_

_A chance for folks to meet_

It took him a moment to get what she was going for. "That won't work, Mercedes."

"Why not?"

"These parents think the library's just a babysitting service. They don't really care about saving the youth room."

Mercedes shook her head. "That's where you're wrong. I think people will surprise you if you just give them a chance. Get up here, I've heard you in church. I ain't singing by myself."

_Oh, it doesn't matter what you wear_

_Just as long as you are there_

Jericho rolled his eyes, grabbing Mercedes' hand and using a sturdy wood chair to vault himself up onto the desk. He felt kind of silly singing along and copying Mercedes dance moves, but he had to admit that she had a great voice and strength when she sang. He admired that; he didn't feel that when he sang: at church, in the shower, anywhere.

_So every guy, grab a girl_

_Everyone around the world will be dancing_

_They're dancing in the streets_

Once they were finished, Jericho fell back into the wooden chair. His feet were planted on the desk still. "You honestly think the parents and kids would come to a block party?"

"I think they will if you show'em how important all these books really are. And I can see how important they are to you at least. How is it Quinn hasn't scooped you up yet?"

Jericho folded his arms, grey plaid meshing as they crossed. "Simple. We're not dating and I don't think either of us have plans for it."

Mercedes shrugged. "All I know is, if I had caught your attention, I sure as hell wouldn't let you go, boy."

Jericho smiled softly. "You caught my attention today."

_From here to Chicago_

_Straight down to New Orleans, yeah_

_And New York City_

_All we need is music, sweet music_

_There'll be music everywhere_

_And dancing in the streets_

A/N: June's song choice_: "Dancing in the Streets"  
_


	7. June pt 2 New Season

Between the Sheets had the smell of Jericho's father about it. It smelled like music, if music had a smell. Jericho remembered briefly that the cheerleading coach at school had called the smell something moldy or unpleasant. He disagreed.

Jericho knew what music smelled like: history, creativity, possibility, and maybe even joy. Or it had. That was before the accident, before he had shut away the joy. He hadn't felt that joy in so long, every now and then at church or when he raised money for charity. But joy- joy was an elusive thing. A bird in the eye of a hurricane or something like that.

Running low on time, Jericho headed straight for the gospel section. He knew he needed the third fake book in the Greatest series. _Damn_, he thought to himself,_ they only have one and four. I could do an order but it would take too long. Well, lets see what four has in it._

Flipping the slightly cumbersome book around, he paused with his finger on the listing of each song. _Good, Good, Ugh, Good, Need that, Maybe, Maybe, Good_

Four was turning out to have some prospects. There was Mercy Me, some Charlie Hall, and even an almost recent Newsboy song. Still, it wasn't Volume 3 but it would have to do. That was one thing down…now for the next.

Jericho walked back over to cd racks and looked around for a moment, slightly bewildered. He didn't recognize a third of the names and most of them that he recognized were doing the 20th Century or Millenium releases. _Wiz Khalifa? What the heck is a Wiz Khalifa and why does he look so awful?_ Jericho thought to himself, mildly appalled at feeling older.

There was more time to dawdle here, but Jericho knew he couldn't dawdle long. There was always Michael Buble but Jericho was kind of sick of Buble. He'd been doing Buble covers for too long. It was expected, it was boring, it was…

"Penny for your thoughts?"

It was bow-tied. "I'm sorry?"

"You're standing here looking like a deer in headlights. Need help?"

Jericho shifted the weight of the fake book in his arms. "Do you work here?"

Bow-tied guy leaned in slightly, hands loose behind his back. "No, but I know music."

"It's not that I don't know music, I just don't recognize most of the artists here anymore. This Wiz guy and Panic at the Disco and Band Perry…I mean, who are all these people? What happened to all the gre…oh God, I sound like my mother."

The man let out a chuckle. "Don't worry. Don't feel bad, gets the best of me sometimes too. What are you looking for?"

"Well," Jericho thought for a moment on how to explain to the 50s style dreamboat standing before him, "I'm an emcee at this annual fundraiser for my church and they always expect something from me. And most times I have something good to offer. I've done decade themes, show tune themes, and even gospel stuff. I wanna do something great, but something that won't get me Old Testament stoned or anything."

"What's your range?"

"Baritenor. Can we at least trade names if we're gonna learn everything about each other?"

"Blaine."

"Blaine?"

"What's wrong with Blaine?"

It sounds like an American Gladiator name, Jericho thought to himself rudely. "Nothing. It's just unexpected is all. My name is Jericho. So how do you know so much about music?"

Blaine watched Jericho set down his softbound fake book on the side of the counter where his soon to be purchased items usually went and came back to same spot. "I'm a vocalist at Dalton Academy and we've got competition season so I'm finding stuff to sing."

"Isn't Dalton all guys?"

"Yeah, it's a male vocal group. You've never seen us perform?"

"Who has the time? I keep myself so busy I have to keep begging off stuff at McKinley as it is. But I can't avoid this, it's my fifth year hosting and I'm a softie for traditions. Gotta say though, if I have to perform Music Man one more time, I may shoot myself in the head."

Blaine gave more a full laugh to that. "I know what you mean. I perform at theme parks to earn extra money during the summer and it's so…."

"Ah," Jericho thought, rubbing his forehead as if conjuring an old memory," I've got war wounds from being the FAO Schwartz mascot for an MDA thing once."

"Poor thing. Well, let's find you something."

"Are you sure you don't work here?" Jericho teased as he watched Blaine's outstretched arm.

"I'm sure. I just like to help."

"That I can believe," Jericho nodded as they stopped at the cd wall.

**Blaine: Mamas and the Papas?**

**Jericho: Pass. Too sixties, we've got a flapper theme this year.**

**Chicago soundtrack?**

**For a church event? I'm lucky if I can get them to even listen to Funny Girl stuff.**

**Etta James?**

**Not in my range.**

**Well, what artists are in your baritenor range then?**

**Buble, of course. Harry Connick, Raul Esparsa….anything up to Diana Ross in the Wiz if I'm feeling kinda crazy.**

**Maybe you should just get them to change the theme?**

**As if.**

**What about this?**

Blaine picked up a cd off the rack and slid it beneath the laser bar where the black headphones where resting.

"Who's that?"

"Just trust me."

Jericho bit down on his lip a little before bringing out a pair of blue ear buds. "Fine, but we do this with my headphones. I'm not getting imaginary lice again, not like when I tutored those kindergarten kids."

"Okay, you mind if I listen too? Just to make sure we hit the right tracks?"

"Sure. Have the right one, left is my good ear anyways."

They stood next to each other as Adele started to play.

"That's pretty good."

"Wait," Blaine stated as he punched the button to the fifth track. "Try this one."

_I let it fall, my heart_

_And it fell as you rose to claim it_

"Woah," Jericho thought. "Much better than music man."

When the song ended, Blaine offered back the right ear bud. Jericho just blinked as he looked at Blaine, not realizing he had looked a little too long when Blaine broke back into his thoughts. "Here, you might need this."

"I…oh yeah," Jericho thought as he took the case. He already knew he was gonna buy the album and goodness it was going to sound fantastic.

A familiar soft voice walked over. "Hey, look who I find at Between the Sheets."

_And it was dark and it was over_

_Until you kissed my lips and claimed it_

Blaine smiled and Jericho merely blinked as he looked over at Kurt. "Hey Kurt," Blaine said, "how are you doing?"

"Yeah, you look…" Jericho was trying to put words to it. Of course, it was all over McKinley about Karofsky and Jericho didn't think the weekend was a good time to bring it up. He wished he could be there to stand up for Kurt but he was never around when it happened, "…stressed."

_But there's a side to you_

_That I never knew, never knew_

Kurt nodded. "Wedding plans. The reality is so much more…dramatic than in my little planning binder."

"Yeah," Blained replied, "and you just lost a piece of…mmm, nice fabric."

_All the things you'd say_

_That were never true, never true_

"Thanks," Kurt smiled at Blaine as he took it from his hand, "it's got a simple black fleur-de-lis with the crème that will match Carole's dress. If I can ever get that damn tailor to approve my shade of white."

Blaine let the curse word roll over him. "Kurt, you're kind of feisty today."

"Have to be when planning a wedding. So what are you two doing here?"

_All the games you'd play_

_You would always win, always win_

"I'm just hanging out, thinking about heading over to the Bean if you're interested. And of course, Jericho, you could come."

Both Kurt and Jericho shook their heads. "No," they echoed each other.

"I'd love to, but rehearsal," Jericho shrugged. "In fact, I'm going to be late if I dawdle much longer. I'd shake your hand but…"

Kurt juggled his overflowing binder. "Yeah, but I'll see you at school."

"So that's the name of the school you were spying for, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah. That's us, the old McKinley Titans," Kurt shrugged with fake school enthusiasm.

John was amused. "Kurt and his gang of singing ruffians keep trying to get me to join New Directions. They seem to think I have talent."

Blaine gave Jericho a look. "You're emceeing events for your church, I'm sure you have talent."

Jericho chuckled. "Right. Well Blaine, it was nice to meet you. Maybe we'll see each other again some time?"

"Good luck," Blaine started, "and if you ever need to talk, Kurt has my number. Happy to be of any musical assistance."

Jericho nodded. "I'll think about it. And Kurt, go get some coffee with Blaine. You look like you're about to topple over."

Kurt stopped a moment to think about it and looked at Blaine who shrugged noncommittally. "Sure, sure. That would…be good."

_Not much time_, Jericho thought, as he entered the building. The church was round, built likea movie theater and complete with the same reclining plushy red seats. Stepping in a side door of the auditorium he walked up towards the stage where Mike was finishing setting up his v-synth.

_When I lay with you_

_I could stay there_

"Oh good, not too late."

"Late for you though, and still fifteen minutes before everybody else." Mike quipped.

"I know, couldn't seem to find the right fake book or I'd have been here earlier. Drew a blank for what I wanted to do for offertory while people are doing the vacation and summer things."

_Close my eyes_

_Feel you here forever_

Mike brought up some notes to test out volume levels on the v-synth. The monitors were fine but could use a little boost. "Hey Floyd, man, bring me up in four?"

Jericho started to plug in the four mikes needed for the weekend services, the black cords dangling down from the mike stands while they waited. "Ohp, there you go Mike. You make it sound like a Yes concert in here."

_You and me together_

_Nothing is better_

"Thanks," Mike grinned from behind his handmade keyboard monstrosity. "Pretty good set list this week. Can't wait to hear what you've got planned for offering."

"Yeah? I haven't gotten to check schedule planner and I'll probably do Casting Crowns or Third Day because well, hi."

"Extra schedules were dropped over on the coffee table, see what would fit in."

Jericho walked over to the coffee table where Pastor Dan usually set his bible and picked up the first page off the stack to look over the list.

_Cause there's a side to you_

_That I never knew, never knew_

"Hey Mike, you had a chance to read this yet?"

"Just the songs. Why?"

"I'm…I'm not singing this week."

"Bummer…you sounded pretty sure you were."

"Well yeah, I thought with the summer…we had…I'll just have to find out what's going on before practice starts."

_All the things you'd say_

_That were never true, never true_

Jericho kept his nose down and almost buried in the schedule list for the weekend services. He had a gnawing feeling in his gut, and not the good kind he got when he ruined grade curves. No, this was a feeling that maybe this had happened for not so good reasons, reasons he didn't want to think about, reasons his dad wouldn't have stood for.

But Jericho's dad was dead.

The light was on over the desk of the associate pastor of music and Kaylie's red guitar was standing in the corner, but there was no one in the office. And it wasn't prudent to just go looking around the place for Kaylie. There was no way to find her without being embarrassed and winding up sitting in on a rehearsal he wasn't playing for.

Jericho's face went taut. Was he angry? No. Not angry. Tired. Tired and hurt. It felt like bull and smelled like bull and who was there to blame? Himself, himself for getting his hopes up. Bitterness was welling up inside him. Jericho didn't want to be the star, just wanted a solo every once in a while, just wanted to spread his wings and see where they would go. Was that so bad? Was that criminal? What had he done that was so offensive?

_All the games you play_

_You would always win, always win_

_Oh damn_, Jericho thought as he felt the heat of tears well in his eyes, _no. We can't do this. Not here, not now. Just, just get out of the building._

A light June rain had started, dampening the mugginess as he left Creekside Church. He was glad for the rain, but not for the mud. The streets adjacent as he half walked and half ran away were going to get muddy before too long. But he kept walking, just kept walking so he wouldn't think and so he could outrun the thoughts he hated, those thoughts of being buried underneath his worthlessness.

_But I set fire to the rain_

_Watched it pour as I touched your face_

There were no cars out, thank God, nothing to run him over or see him and offer a pity ride. He kept walking, stopping in the shade of the local Pizza Hut. He waited inside, ordered a pizza while drenching wet that he was not hungry for, and took the pizza back out into the night with him.

He walked until the rain began to make mud and his steps started making that squelching sound. He didn't cry, staying on the brink of solvency and sanity. He just kept walking, kept passing vacant road and lit house after lit house. Night was coming, he'd have to get home.

_Well, it burned while I cried_

_Cause it heard it screaming out your name, your name_

McKinley.

He passed his school, mostly out for summer but still open with all the SAT prep classes going on. Finally going in, he walked the halls, leaving a dripping trail every few yards with his stride. He turned hallway to hallway and then he was there, the empty auditorium.

Angry, tired, disaffected, holding a sopping wet pizza box, Jericho must have looked a sight. But he didn't care. There was no one here. The pizza box was set down on a seat near the stage with his bag that he hadn't even got to set down at Creekside. He reached in almost mechanically for the fake book. He'd practice, even if he wasn't worthy of playing. He'd do it acapella, read notes, know the words. The words of the hymns would calm him.

But Jericho's hands caught something else instead. The edges of the Adele case.

There was a cd player on the side table of the stage. He wouldn't even have to go up to the sound booth.

And she sounded like she knew him, knew what he was hiding, and how could Jericho fool anyone. He was hiding, he was absent. Angry, banished from his own life and future, punishing himself and letting himself be punished. All the time, day in and day out. Alone and brave yet so cowardly.

_I set fire to the rain_

_I threw us into the flames_

_Where I felt something die_

_Cause I knew that it was the last time, the last time ooh!_

Clapping at the end of the song.

Jericho turned, ready to bolt and then he saw Sam. Jericho hadn't realized he was shaking and whether it was from the cold and wet was unknown.

"Dude. That was really good."

"I…no one's supposed to be here. I was practicing."

"For Glee club? Cause we need a voice like that."

"No." Jericho's voice was flat and defiant as he rose up from his knees. He had fallen on his knees with emotion, pounded his fists on the stage floor like a toddler. "No." He said it again as if he didn't quite believe what he was saying.

"Okay," Sam put his hands up, "but you've got talent."

"Doesn't matter. Talent won't save me, won't help."

"Jericho, right? I've seen you with Quinn and the other guys from Glee but you always looked so together. What's going on?"

Jericho moved back a step, skittish. "No, I…."

He was tired, he wanted to break. Sam wanted to help but he couldn't do it. Couldn't bring himself to break the imposed silence. He'd need a good fake answer, better than silence.

"Hey man, you can talk to me. I'm trustworthy."

Jericho shook his head. "I've, I've got to go. I bought this pizza that I'm not gonna eat, just go ahead and help yourself but I've…"

He rushed away, leaving Sam behind the auditorium. His shoes squelched as he nearly bolted, running as hard as his shivering bones would take him. He barely missed Ms. Pillsbury watching him run, Sam almost too bewildered to keep up.

"Sam, was that Jericho running out of here like a madman?"

"It was," Sam answered while showing Emma the cd he had left behind and the bag with the hymn book, "and he was practicing Adele. But there's something else going on. He just wouldn't tell me what."

"I'm afraid he's too used to keeping it bottled up. We've been trying but it's getting worse for some reason."

_Oh no_

_Let it burn_

"Yeah, but he could sing. Man, he was singing about it, all that stuff he's not saying. I haven't heard someone like that since Kurt did that Le Hot Jazz number."

_Let it burn_

_Let it burn_

_June song choice: "Set Fire to the Rain" by Adele_


End file.
